


moulant.

by witchpriest (inkhead)



Series: queen of cups (reversed) [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Twins, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Genderqueer Character, Ice Play, Incest, Lingerie, Nonbinary Character, Nude Photos, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Trans Character, Tucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5281886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkhead/pseuds/witchpriest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This will not work.”</p><p>Thomas makes a keening noise in his throat, head thumping back against the wall behind the bed. </p><p> </p><p>  <em>“ Fuck .”</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	moulant.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agent_orange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_orange/gifts).



> This was just meant to be a quick coda to [des gants longs, bas résille et le jartelle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5204630) on the point of something i'd intended to expand on before i wrote myself into a bit of a corner.
> 
> and then it wasn't.

“This will not work.”

  


Thomas makes a keening noise in his throat, head thumping back against the wall behind the bed. “ _Fuck_.”

  


Lafayette laughs quietly, body slanting back along Thomas’ side, chin hooked on his shoulder. “Think calming thoughts, Thoma’,” and Thomas just groans and slumps further down the bed.

  


He’d been initially freaked out about the idea of Lafayette tucking him, but he’d also been horribly aroused when it had come up in the first place, which makes this reaction less predictable that it might have been otherwise. He kind of hates himself for the sick anxiety it invokes in him.

  


He hates himself more for the fact that the humiliation of that anxiety turns him on. And.

  


He’s got a pair of plain panties stretched around his thighs, pulled down enough for Lafayette to get their hand between his legs. They’ve got their hand curled deftly over his cock, carefully guiding his testicles up into the canals he knew academically were there, and then he just starts getting hard. He groans again, drops his head down against Lafayette’s. “I’m sorry.”

  


They hum and kiss his cheek. “I think I’ll take it as a compliment.” They give his cock a slightly painful squeeze, and Thomas yelps and squirms and remains exactly as hard, which just makes Lafayette giggle, “Oh, _cherie,_ what shall we do with you?”

  


Then they pause, obviously thinking, and Thomas looks at them, raises his eyebrows. “What? What are you going to do? Lafayette,” and they don’t respond, just lean in and kiss him thoroughly, licking into his mouth in a way that makes his toes curl.

  


“Wait here.”

  


Thomas gets goosebumps at the purr in their voice, calls after them as they hop off the bed and saunter towards the kitchen. Towards the freezer.

  


“Oh god.”

  


He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and hears acutely the clink-clink of ice being dropped into a bowl, and the soft sound of Lafayette padding back to the bed. They crawl back up next to him, kiss his cheek and the edge of his jaw.

  


“If you don’t want to we can stop right now.”

  


Thomas takes a shuddering breath, the muscles in his stomach fluttering. He opens his eyes and turns to kiss Lafayette, and they smile against his mouth, their hand wrapping around the back of his neck. “You’ll tell me if you want to stop, Thoma’,” no room for protesting in their tone.

  


He sits back while Lafayette picks up several ice cubes and wraps them in a thin cloth, and presses the pack against Thomas’ stomach first. It makes him flinch a little, twitching with nerves, but it’s mostly just a cool sensation. He distantly realises that the ice hasn’t started to melt through the cloth yet. Lafayette makes a soft noise, kisses his shoulder, and then they lift the pack off for a moment, and then they press it against his cock.

  


Thomas would like to say he doesn’t shriek. He makes this ridiculous noise, ripped out of his chest, jerks up and squirms, and Lafayette has to press his lips down and murmur soothing french in his ear, “shh, Thoma’, _c’est bien,_ ” and Thomas tries not to hyperventilate, his fingers clutching at the sheets.

  


It hurts and it’s just _numb_ at the same time, and he’s trying not to writhe but more and more ice cold water seeps through the cloth, dripping down over his cock and down between his thighs. It’s worse the longer Lafayette holds it there, and as he takes a deep shuddering breath his eyes well up and suddenly there’s hot tears rolling down his face, and he moans wretchedly, “I can’t, I can’t, please La, _please.”_

  


He doesn’t notice that the pack is gone for a moment, but then Lafayette carefully cups their hand over his soft cock, and it feels so impossibly hot that he flinches back, sobbing again. Lafayette pulls their hand back, and then they’ve wrapped one hand gently around his neck, the other on his jaw, pressing kisses over his face until he stops shaking. Thomas’s breath catches wetly in his throat, forehead leant against Lafayette’s.

  


“ _Fuck_.”

  


Lafayette’s look at them is impossibly fond, like they’re visibly holding back the compliments that would make Thomas blush and squirm, clear enough that it makes his face heat anyway.

  


“You want me to try the tuck again?”

  


Thomas bites his lip and nods, and Lafayette smiles, kisses him achingly soft. They let Thomas sit back again, then carefully slip their hand between his thighs, and then easy as anything, they ease his balls back, move his soft cock with them - Thomas hisses at the sensitivity of it-  and smoothly tuck everything back between his legs. There’s some wiggling to get the tight panties up in place, and then it’s done. It’s not the tightest of tucks, but it’s not as if he’s going anywhere, and as Thomas smooths his hand over the flat front of the panties, he feels an odd sense of achievement.

  


“You do this all the time?”

  


Lafayette shrugs. “Not all the time. It’s only necessary with some clothes.” A teasing little smile makes its way over their face. “It’s much easier if you don’t have a kink for it too,” and then Thomas is absolutely blushing.

  


What he decides to do about this is kiss the smile off Lafayette’s face, swinging himself into their lap, and they just laugh against his mouth, hands playing around the waistband of the panties and running down their thighs. They kiss him back lazily, their lips lingering as they just barely pull back.

  


“I should take pictures,” they say teasingly, and Thomas absolutely couldn’t blush anymore.

  


“Okay.”

  


Lafayette’s eyes go wide, “I was mostly joking,” but then they’re ushering him out of their lap and flailing a hand out for their phone, before crawling over to the bedside table when they don’t find it. Thomas moves back against the pillows. He’s not sure if he should, fuck, pose or something? Maybe take off the t-shirt he’s wearing.

  


Lafayette finds their phone with a small cry of victory, then turns back to him and Thomas tries to sound confident. “How do you want me?”

  


His voice only cracks a little.

  


Lafayette bites their lip against a smile. “You’re good like that. Just, _une second._ ”

  


They reach out and gently guide his limbs into careful adjustments, give him a considering look, and then reaches for the hem of his shirt. Thomas props himself up to remove it, but they shake their head, and just move the hem up, so there’s a curve of his stomach bared above the lace edging on the panties.

  


Thomas’ stomach flips.

  


Lafayette sits back on their heels then, lifts their phone up.

  


“Try to relax, Thoma’,” which only serves to make him tense up more. He hears the shutter noise once, twice, and his stomach flutters at each one. He, god, he wants to cover his face, he wants to squirm away from Lafayette’s intent gaze through the phone’s lens, but if he lets his eyes drift down to the sweats Lafayette is wearing he can see that they’re half hard.

  


His sweats. They’re his, of course.

  


He wonders if they’re getting off on the photos, of if he’s just not noticed since the ice. The shutter clicks softly again, and he bites his lip, then moves to hook his foot around Lafayette’s knee. He takes a breath.

  


“La?”

  


“ _Oui?”_ Absently, intent on their photography.

  


“Fuck me?”

  


Lafayette doesn’t drop the phone, but their fingers fumble as they put it to one side. “ _Mais_ , you can’t even get hard -”

  


Thomas tugs at them with his foot until they fall forward over him.

  


“Please.”

  


Lafayette stares at him for a moment, then swears softly and kisses him.

  


“ _D’accord_.” They push themself up to fetch lube out of the drawer. They come back, then give him a considering look. Thomas raises his eyebrows, but they don’t say anything, just hook their fingers in the back of the panties and, doesn’t actually remove them. They’re pulled down at the back to the top of his thighs, stretching a little awkwardly, but as Lafayette pours a slick of lube over their fingers and presses them against his hole, he’s still mostly tucked.

  


Lafayette preps him carefully, but doesn’t take their time and he’s glad for it - he feels over and under-stimulated at the same time, and on good days they’ll make him beg for it. Now, Lafayette works him open with two slick fingers and helps him fold his legs up between them, and as they ease their cock inside him Thomas feels the breath go out of him.

  


“ _Merde.”_

  


Thomas hums absently, one hand snaking out to wrap around Lafayette’s wrist. “C’mon.”

  


Getting fucked when he’s not hard is, strange, but not bad. He feels fuller than usual, pleasantly stretched open, and, god, he doesn’t even want to come. He’s not urgently aroused, he’s not whining for Lafayette to fuck him harder, he just wants them inside him. He just wants Lafayette to come.

  


Thomas lifts his hand to the back of Lafayette’s head. “ _Baise-moi_.”

  


They let out a huffing little laugh and lean up to kiss him. He licks into their mouth, hands threading into their hair and pulling slightly, and Lafayette groans softly and thrusts in jerkily. They put all their weight on one elbow, slip their hand down to press on Thomas’ cock. It's still soft and a little numb, mostly still tucked.

  


“Don’t, I don’t care, want you to come.”

  


Lafayette pulls back and stares at him for a moment, then kisses him hard.

  


“ _Tu es absurde_.”

  


Thomas makes a face and nips at their lip. “Shut up and _come_ ”.

  


Lafayette moans, drops their head down against his shoulder and ruts steadily into him, and like this Thomas can focus on the soft little noises they make, how Lafayette clutches at his hip, their breath hitching. He scratches his nails over their scalp, kisses their temple.

  


“C’mon, La, I want you to come, _je veux que tu jouis_ , come in me.”

  


Lafayette whines, thrusts in a handful of times and stills, keening his name against Thomas’ hair, and slumping clumsily on top of him. Thomas doesn’t mind the weight, but they push themself up after a moment and carefully ease out, then flop down beside him. He stretches out, joints cracking, and Lafayette nuzzles against his neck.

  


“Do you want me to suck you off?” Their voice is slow and soft, and Thomas shakes his head, rolls over to kiss them. They hum and kiss him back, say _D’accord_ against his mouth.

  


They’re gross and sticky, the both of them and Lafayette’s breathing is suspiciously sleepy when they both really need a shower. But they can kiss a bit longer.

  
  
  


 

 


End file.
